Maybe someday
by HaushinkaWasHere
Summary: -"Dinner?" -"Wrong number, Mrs. Adler" -"Not at all. I won't ask a third time. Dinner?" A Mycroft and Irene fanfic. One shot. Completed. Pia, I hope you like it! 3


"**Maybe someday"**

_Hello! I've never thought of a thing like this to happen in one of my fanfics, but this is an especial occasion. This text is a gift to my own little Moriarty, to my friend Pia. I don't know if she'll like it, but I tried my best. My dear, thanks for all those messages and laughs we have shared. I hope there will be still a thousand more and that we can finally have the meeting we imagined, with our deerstalkers, at Baker Street, screaming and fangirling a huge "Oh my God!". This one is for you. Love,_

_**HaushinkaWasHere**_

* * *

_Unlock_

_Text messages_

_Inbox_

"_Dinner?" __**- IA**_

_Reply_

"_Wrong number, Miss Adler" – MH _

_New message_

"_Not at all. I won't ask a third time. Dinner?" – IA_

_Fingers tipping on his leg, waiting._

_Reply_

"_Starving" – MH_

Mycroft has always been a man of calm manners. Even when he had (and still has) to solve his younger brother's many problems. His blood always stayed cold, his heart always beat at the same rhythm for nearly all his life. What was happening now?

His umbrella was resting on his lap, his eyes lost in the black window car. His expression seemed calm but his heart didn't seem to take the rest of the body as a good example to follow. He was a Holmes after all; he could fake a blank expression to avoid showing his feelings, or even breakdowns. He couldn't afford such a thing.

The car's door opened, letting a pair of high black heels get inside. An elegant pale figure sat down in front of him. Her dress was the only thing he could admire at that very moment without being noticed.

"Are you always this punctual? Where have the men like you gone?" said, chuckling slightly, crossing her legs, looking directly at him.

"I'm British after all" he says without showing any excitement, playing his hands over his umbrella.

"No need to tell, even your umbrella shouts it to the whole world".

"Any other points to remark, Miss Adler?"

"Yes. Where are we going?"

"Restaurant"

"Don't tell me the obvious, I still have my brain."

"Sorry, I'm used to deal with idiots every day. It's lovely to have one who thinks to talk to for at least one day."

She laughed softly, leaning closer, her chin cupped by her own hand, looking curiously at him. "Should I take that as a compliment?"

"You tell" he hid a little smirk, looking at her directly now.

The car stopped. Anonymous place. Anonymous faces of people unknown. A secret table in the darkest corner of the restaurant. A waiter paid to say nothing but take the order. Mycroft took her chair, letting her sit down.

"How polite. Is it in the Holmes' blood? Or just in you when you see me?"

"A bottle of wine, we'll take our time to decide the meal" He limited to say to the waiter, ignoring her comment.

He left his umbrella leaning on the wall. The place was silent, just with a melody that seemed a whisper as soundtrack. Silence fell between them both. He sighed, trying not look at her directly, although he knew she was observing him close. Those red lips were driving him mad. His acting was becoming more difficult with each glance of hers. But, after her hand decided to stay on top of his on the table, the mask literally broke, feeling a warm sensation go through his cold body. He closed his eyes, saying softly:

"Why do you always act like I'm unimportant for you and then make me this?"

"Because I'm as a good actress as you are. We both know we can't afford the prize of showing to the world that we are human, that we have feelings. Except when no one can see us" She played with her fingers on his, until he finally grabbed her hand softly, running a finger through her palm.

"You have always been there, in a corner of my mind, although I know you're not good for me. Or for my brother. Or for anyone in the world."

"I'm a challenge for any person alive. I like being your challenge"

"You definitely are. I've always been weak at challenges"

The waiter came and took the order, trying to avoid looking at their hands. He went away without a word. Mycroft chuckled.

"The power of money and Government is wonderful for this kind of things"

"Yes, and blackmail always takes a part"

"How can you be so cruel?"

"Because you like it."

He looked at her, lips parted, not believing the whole dinner thing to be happening.

"Why me?"

"Why not?"

"I'm older. Not as attractive as Sherlock. I'm more boring. I've been always the responsible cold brother. I can't see why you have any interest in me, only to use me to get Sherlock"

"Sherlock is a mere toy in all this plan. You are the main character. You are the one who's out of the plan, Mr. Holmes"

He took her hand to his lips, kissing it slightly.

"Mycroft, please" he said softly.

Her face wasn't covered with a mask anymore. He was seeing Irene. The true Irene. The human Irene. No need to act. She got up, walking to Mycroft, sitting on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You can't imagine how much I wanted this moment to happen, Mycroft"

"I think I can have a close idea, Irene"

"You're not boring, or old, or less attractive. You are you, Sir"

"I would be poor if I earned money whenever someone said that to me. I'm not used to it."

"Then that _someone_ is blind"

"I thought you never acted human"

"Welcome to the club"

The waiter appeared, putting the plates at the table and leaving.

"Smells good" she pointed at his meal.

"Not the only thing smelling good here"

"You're good at flirting" she took a bite of his meal, tempting.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Lady Adler?"

"I don't need to do it when I have done it already"

"You're such a tease"

"You're _always _such a tease"

It's then when she leaned closer to him, nearly brushing her lips with his. Both breaths were unstable, starting to go wild with anticipation. Mycroft couldn't hold it back and broke the distance, crashing his lips against hers softly, taking his time, closing his eyes, tasting her scent. She sighed into the kiss, parting her lips to allow him to enter. His tongue explored her mouth, delighted with her taste, grabbing her hand tighter, receiving a small squeeze from her. Their lips moved slowly, they seemed to be dancing at the same rhythm, a waltz, that waltz that was only known by them both. They were aware that this wasn't correct. This wasn't correct at all. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Who cared? They broke the kiss, resting their foreheads together. Her eyes were still closed. He sighed.

"I'm selling my brother with this"

"I'm selling myself with this"

"Don't go"

"I will never leave you"

"I'll keep our secret"

Her hand stayed on his chest, sadly.

"I'll keep our secret"

She got up, not wanting to, a single tear running down her cheek.

"Until next time, Mr. Holmes"

He saw her walking away, his heart aching, but smiling, knowing he was there with her, leaving, by her side. Maybe in other moment, in other life, in other world, there would be a place for them both, sharing kisses, holding hands, laughing at love, without being afraid to show it to the rest of the world. That moment wasn't now. He paid the meal they merely ate, took his umbrella and walked away, sending a single text before letting himself get lost in the city.

"_Maybe someday" – __**MH**_

_New text message_

"_I promise maybe someday" - __**IA**_


End file.
